


Can't Say I Don't Bite

by Cheylock



Series: A Very Stisaac Pack Christmas [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Human Isaac Lahey, M/M, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheylock/pseuds/Cheylock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, in which Stiles was bitten instead of Scott. This takes place a year later, and shows the state of Stiles' life at the start of his Junior year.</p><p>And the state of Stiles' life? Probably most accurately defined as 'awesome'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Say I Don't Bite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [burntotears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burntotears/gifts).



> For Emmie, my Golden Goddess, who I am forever grateful for finding and flailing with. She was the one who got me my Ao3 account, and it is entirely her fault that I started posting my fic. I blame her with the utmost gratitude and love. She's spectacular, and I adore her.

Stiles growled and barely suppressed a shift—fucking Jackson was such an asshole, he kept trying to knock Stiles off-balance and make him look bad. If it weren’t for the fact that it was close to the moon, Stiles wouldn’t really care—every time Stiles used his now-inherent grace and checked Jackson with his stick, Jackson put out the most delicious smell of frustration that just made Stiles cackle, it was awesome. But it was near the moon and Stiles was getting fed up. The next time Jackson trailed close to him Stiles subtly whacked him in the shin with enough force to bruise pretty much on contact.

It was _good_ to be a werewolf.

Granted, he’d been one for a solid year now, and the experience hadn’t really started _out_ as fun, but it sure as hell was now.

Coach Finstock finally called end of practice and Stiles jogged over to the sidelines, where the two players he gave the most of a damn about sat. Scott’s asthma was fucking with him particularly hard today and Isaac…Isaac was just ‘sick’. _Again_. Stiles knew he wasn’t lying—his heart hadn’t skipped at all when he’d said his stomach hurt, but Stiles was pretty fucking sure it wasn’t for the reason Isaac was letting everybody assume. He wasn’t going to press, no matter how much he wanted to, because truth be told he didn’t really know Isaac like that yet...even though he kind of wanted to.

Isaac and Scott’d become friends when Stiles actually started to play and they wound up sitting beside each other without Stiles’ formerly-gangly (he was much more lithe and graceful now, thank you very much) ceaselessly talking (okay so he still did that most of the time) body as a barrier between them. Stiles’d been jealous at first, but eventually figured it was good for Scott, who was starting to become a little lost in the crowd of people that seemed to want to hang out with Beacon Hills’ newest lacrosse star. He was loyal as shit ( _obviously, seeing as I still talk to him at **all**_ ) so he did his best to drag Scott to the top of the heap with him, inviting him out with Lydia and her gaggle of friends, asking him to sit with them at lunch, trying to set him up with the new girl—the last one was the only thing that’d taken off in any kind of way. Allison seemed to kind of peel off of Stiles’ new friend group so she could be more even with Scott, and it hadn’t looked like she’d been enjoying herself anyway. Stiles was pretty happy for them, and he waved to Allison, who sat at the top of the bleachers. She half-smiled and waved back.  Stiles knew she held a little bit of a grudge against him for getting her aunt locked up, but the psychopath’d deserved it, so Stiles didn’t feel too bad.

“Hey, Isaac, Scott, what up?” Stiles plopped down beside them, pretending to be winded.

Scott of course responded first, and not at all in response with the question. “Dude, I don’t think you should be hitting people like that—you gotta be _careful_ , remember?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Uh _yeah_. I got it dude, don’t worry. Jackson knows nobody’ll believe him if he tries anything. Remember the dance?”

 _Stiles_ remembered the dance, at least. Jackson'd pissed at Stiles because Stiles’d stolen everything from him, kind of blatantly, to be honest. Stiles’ new-found ‘natural talent’d lost Jackson his place as captain of the lacrosse team _and_ his girlfriend because he’d gone basically insane trying to figure out what Stiles _was_ exactly and when he’d found out…well, it’d been hilarious. He’d tried to blackmail Derek into biting him and Derek almost fell for it—but Stiles told him to just let it play out and watch what happened, and Derek trusted his judgment for once.

Jackson’d declared in front of the entire school that Stiles was a werewolf.

He’d gotten more curious looks and laughter than anything else and this prompted a full psychotic break. Jackson’d spent a week in the ‘mental health’ section of Beacon Hills Hospital, so they could diagnose his psychosis and medicate him. It’d been _fucking hilarious_. He’d only gotten back on the lacrosse team three months ago, on a probationary status provided he kept his grades up and didn’t give the new Captain any shit.

Stiles had been enjoying himself immensely.

Scott just gave him a look that tried to be hard but wound up looking kind of…sad. “Yeah, I remember the dance. And so does everybody else. You remember that there are _hunters_ in town, too? Who’ll be looking out for any…weird stuff?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I remember that, too. Know who’s watching practice today? You two, Erica Reyes—totally not a hunter—and Allison—also totally not a hunter, even if her family’s chock-full of them. So.”

Scott crossed his arms. “ _Not_  'so'. Where is everybody else? Where’s _Lydia_ , dude? She hasn’t shown up to any of these for like the past two months. You’re hanging out with me more and more. What _happened_?”

And yeah, Stiles’d hoped they wouldn’t get into this, but it’d been coming for…well, for two months now. Stiles and Isaac’d been too polite to ask why the usual flock of spectators’d dissolved completely, and why Stiles wasn’t constantly seen with Lydia on his arm anymore. If they were anywhere near the top of the goddamn food chain they’d _know_ already and Stiles wouldn’t have to be having this conversation, but alas, they’d both started sitting with Boyd at lunch and that was just the utmost bottom of social depths. Not even _Stiles_ could pull them out of that.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the inevitable incredulous ‘ _what oh my god are you serious!!1!_ ’ that was bound to come blaring out at him. “We ah…we broke up.” Well, to be fair, Stiles’d broken up. With Lydia. _Finally_.

“Oh.” All it sounded was sympathetic. And it was from _Isaac_ , who barely ever spoke to him. Stiles thought the taller-yet-shorter dude might be kind of afraid of him, which was amusing, if a little sad. He wanted to say ‘don’t worry, I don’t bite,’ but he kind of did. He opened his eyes and his mouth dropped open a little, and he looked Isaac full in the face as he continued to speak. “Sorry to hear about that. Are—” Isaac’s eyes bugged out, color flooded his cheeks, and he seemed to abruptly realize who he was talking to. He swallowed hard and then obviously forced himself to continue, and Stiles felt his heart kind of _pull_. Holy _shit_ Isaac was cute when he blushed like that. “Are you okay?” Isaac’s voice was so quiet, like he was afraid that Stiles was going to be mad at him for asking.

Stiles nodded, a little dumbfounded, and bit the inside of his cheek. He really wanted to say ‘it was almost four months coming, dude, don’t worry about it,’ but he and Lydia’d only been dating for six, so that would _not_ be smart to let get around.

Scott braced his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “What happened, man? Lydia Martin was your dream girl, right?” Of course Scott would ask for the details.

Coach Finstock yelled, “You ladies gonna style each other’s hair, too? Come on, Captain and Friends, get moving and go shower off!”

Stiles’ face slipped into the easy smirk of confidence he’d found maybe two months after becoming a werewolf. The spark’d come up from taking down the Alpha with Derek as it tried to make Stiles kill with it on the night of his second moon. It hadn’t been _easy_ but it hadn’t been as hard as Stiles was expecting it to be, mostly because of dumb luck and a few well-placed hunter traps they’d gotten the Alpha to back into. The aftermath of it had been much, much harder—accepting Derek as his Alpha, keeping Derek from just continuing with the crazy bullshit his uncle’d been pulling, having to kill Peter’s nurse because she wouldn’t stop trying to kill _them_ , telling his dad about the wolf stuff so the man could persecute the people involved in the Hale fire…it’d been a long couple months there, but whenever it seemed like it was too hard, like there was too much shit to do, Stiles just remembered— _I’ve helped kill an Alpha. This is nothing_. Thus the spark was fanned, and grew into this cloak of fire that he wore everywhere, that made him untouchable.

“Yeah, Coach, Captain is gonna give Friends some extra practice and a few pointers, in case Friends ever get put on the field. That work for you?”

Coach’s face burst into a grin that looked almost _manic_. “Why yes, yes it does. Remember—hardly work, don’t work hardly!”

Scott, Stiles, and Isaac burst into laughter as the man jogged off the field. Isaac choked out “totally incomprehensible” and Stiles’ laughter seemed to triplicate.

Once it died off (which felt like it took forever), Scott looked seriously at Stiles again. “Seriously dude, what happened.” Scott's tone was suprisingly no-bullshit.

 _Shit_. He wasn’t getting out of this one. “Um. She cheated on me?” That’d been the _final_ straw, really the only justification he needed, but there’d been a lot of stuff. Lydia Martin wanted what she wanted, and if that didn’t line up with what other people wanted, she didn’t give a shit. There was maybe nothing wrong with that, but it was the most irritating personality trait for a significant other like…ever, especially when the only interests you have that coincide are Lydia Martin. Let Jackson watch The Notebook eight-thousand fucking times, as far as Stiles was concerned he was never seeing _that_ shit again (even if he'd only started to hate it around the 80th time).

Stiles was surprised that Isaac seemed angrier than Scott was. Scott’s face was all sympathy, but Isaac’s mouth pursed up and his forehead wrinkled and his hands fisted in the abundant extra fabric his slick red lacrosse shorts. Stiles felt his eyes lingering on them as Isaac talked. “Are you _kidding_ me? What a fucking _idiot_ , holy crap. She didn’t—it wasn’t _Jackson_ , was it?”

Stiles bit his lip and tried not to look too amused. “Yeah, actually, it was.”

Isaac let out some indignant noise that _tried_ to be kind of rude but just sounded hilarious and adorable and Stiles couldn’t hold it in anymore—he laughed, low and bright, and Isaac’s cheeks colored again and he relaxed his hands and smoothed out his shorts. “Uh.” He picked up his helmet and settled it in his lap, and Stiles raised an amused eyebrow. “Sorry.”

Stiles laughed again, just a quick rill of it. “Dude, don’t be sorry. I dunno why you think she’s an _idiot_ for it—fucking, yeah, that part happened, but you know she’s not as stupid as she pretends to be, right?”

Isaac looked up at him sharply. “No, she’s pretty _fucking_ stupid if she’d cheat on _you_.” He didn’t seem to realize what he was going to say until it was out of his mouth, and his face turned even redder and the blood started to rise on his _neck_ and Stiles…Stiles was undeniably interested in making him _do_ _that_ some more. It made the guy look kind of…lickable. _Fucking moon_. But it was still true, regardless of what time of month it was. Damn.

Scott, however, seemed a little bit done. “ _Okay_ then. I’m gonna go talk to Allison, okay? And then—then I’m gonna leave.”

Isaac looked up at Scott quickly, seeming almost painfully embarrassed. “I’ll come with—have to say hi to Erica—am I still gonna ride home with you or—I mean…?” Isaac looked lost and Stiles felt the urge to _protect_ like crazy, it was kind of intense and out of nowhere and _weird_ , but looking at Isaac’s face maybe it wasn’t that weird because he was just too fucking cute.

“Dude, I can totally drive you home.” Stiles wasn’t even sure he was gonna offer until it was out of his mouth, but now that he said it…yeah. That would be kind of…well… _awesome_.

Isaac went a little pale. “Oh—uh…me and Scott were gonna watch some stuff on…on Netflix at his house…” He looked uncertainly from Scott to Stiles.

Stiles couldn’t stop himself from making another little clarifying statement. “Uh—I totally have Netflix, too, you could come over to _my_ house and watch ‘some stuff’, if you want.”

Isaac still seemed completely conflicted and a little mystified, and his eyes flicked over to _Erica_ a few times, which was just weird, and Stiles wished he was better at scenting arousal so he could just _tell_ if Isaac was into him or not, sheesh.

Scott shook his head and started up the bleachers, grinning. “Go ahead, Isaac. You’ll just be over at my house tomorrow anyway, don’t worry about it. I’ll see if Allison wants to come over. Have fun, guys.”

Stiles smiled and reminded himself to send Scott a ‘Thank You For Being The Best Bro Ever’ e-card or something. “Okay, so I’ll go get changed and showered, you hang out with your friend for a sec and then do the same, and _then_ we’ll head to mine, yeah?”

Isaac was now flicking his eyes from Erica to Stiles, biting his lip like he was trying to figure something out, but he finally said “Sure, okay” and headed up the bleachers to the blonde girl in the oversized gray sweatshirt. Stiles waved at her and started to walk away slowly, concentrating to see if he could hear their conversation, but all he got was the tapping of little keys.

Sometimes Stiles wanted to kill Scott for telling Isaac he really _was_ a werewolf.

 

Stiles got showered and changed fairly slowly, but it seemed to take Isaac forever to come into the locker room, and Stiles was just pulling on a shirt when he showed. Arousal so strong he could easily decipher it hit him in a wave as his head popped out of the hole in the shirt and he turned to see Isaac standing there, even his _ears_ red. Stiles chuckled and filed away the smell in his mind, determined to memorize it and learn to pick it out through the constantly conflicted smells coming off Isaac.  “Dude, I’ll just ah…wait here while you’re changing I guess?”

Isaac nodded and bolted to his locker, gangly and a little awkward, and Stiles pulled _A Clash of Kings_ out of his locker and started to read. He groaned when he saw whose section he was on and rolled his eyes.

“Bran?” It was Isaac’s voice and Stiles kept his eyes trained fully on the page as he heard Isaac pulling off his clothes, because it seemed polite, and as badly as he wanted to look he probably shouldn’t.

“Yeah, dude! How’d you know?”

“Uh, he’s like eight. I love the boy but he bores the _hell_ out of me. The Starks are _the_ best house but Bran makes me pretty consistently tired.”

Now _these_ were conversations Stiles wanted to be able to have with a significant other. “Holy _crap_ , _yes_. The Starks are _awesome_ , if I could be a member of any house it’d be theirs. Plus, _Dire Wolf_. Yay irony, right?” He was maybe pushing a little there, trying to see if Isaac’s heart rabbited in fear, but it seemed like the guy’s heart was usually rabbity, a little too fast, like he was scared _all the time_. Now that Stiles really thought about it, that was kind of fucking awful. It didn’t seem to speed up at the wolf comment at all, though—Isaac just laughed. Not bad. Not bad at all. Stiles really liked that sound, and the light that came into Isaac's eyes.

Stiles concentrated on the book and got a little lost in it, only vaguely aware of his surroundings but still _listening_ for the approach of anything out of the ordinary. ‘Constant vigilance’ was Derek’s favorite catchphrase now that Beacon Hills’d been pretty chill for the last four months or so, and Stiles seriously regretted making him read the Harry Potter books—Derek was fast on the way to becoming Alastor Moody. All he was missing was the swiveling glass eye and the freaky wooden leg. Also the wand and the trunk and...and everything else— _shit, he just basically has the same mindset, leave it at that, Stiles_. Scott still hadn’t come in and Stiles though he was maybe waiting for _them_ to leave beforehand, so Isaac couldn’t back out.

He needed to get on that e-card.

He looked up quickly when he started to smell the sharp scent of fear, afraid something was _wrong_ , but Isaac was just dressed in his regular clothes, biting his lip nervously, backpack on his shoulder. He spoke quickly when Stiles looked at him, _too_ quick, like he was shoving the words out of himself. “Hey um if you don’t actually wanna hang out with me it’s cool I mean I’m sure you have other stuff to do it’d be cool if you could take me home though didn’t bring my bike today sorry.”

Stiles blinked a couple times. “Uh. Aren’t you gonna shower, dude?”

Isaac shrank in on himself a bit more than usual and his whole face went red. “I didn’t—I didn’t play at all?”

“Oh _yeah_.” Stiles facepalmed. “Welp. I’m fucking stupid, ignore me. I was just waiting for _you_ , dude, I didn’t realize you were waiting on me. I have a little Chem II homework but it’s no big deal—hey, aren’t you in that class with me?” Stiles felt bad for not really talking to Isaac outside of the occasional pow-wow with Scott that Isaac happened to be in the general area of, but Isaac seemed to kind of avoid everybody, like he was trying to fade into the background, so Stiles didn't blame himself too hard.

Isaac didn’t seem offended or anything, he just nodded, like he _expected_ Stiles to inadvertently ignore him. Sad. “Yeah. I sit in the back but on the other side from you pretty much every day. By the door that lets out towards the office? So we could maybe do it together, if you want? I mean, I’m gonna be honest here, I kinda suck at Chemistry…I have a…well, my grade in there right now isn’t awesome _._ ” Isaac visibly flinched a little and touched a scar on his cheek, a jagged little ‘u’ shape that didn’t really detract from the beauty of that damn _cheekbone_ one bit. And holy shit, Stiles was thinking of it as ‘beauty’.

Actually, now that Stiles was really looking at Isaac, he had no idea how he hadn’t noticed it—Isaac was _beautiful_. Like in the ‘this is almost to pretty to touch holy shit he should be a model’ way, with his huge blue eyes and his sharp jaw and cheekbones. The only things that kind of messed that up for him were his slouching posture ( _have no idea how tall he actually is_ _)_ and the darkness under both his eyes, but at the same time it  _didn't_ really mess him up...it just made him look a little...broody and in need of distraction. And Stiles could think of some pretty good distractions.

These thoughts probably contributed to the quiet, awed way his voice came out as he slowly got up and stuffed his book in his backpack before slinging it on his shoulder and closing his locker. “Hey, I can help you out, if you want. We still haven’t picked lab partners for the mid-semester project yet and I’m pretty sure Scott’s gonna go with Allison, you wanna be mine?” The last part of that question came out with more gravity than it maybe should’ve, and Stiles motioned Isaac forward and started to walk, trying not to make it obvious that he was gauging Isaac’s face for a reaction.

Isaac’s reaction was awesome though—he smiled his quiet little smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up, and it went a little lopsided and _yep_ , Stiles had a crush. Hopefully this didn’t turn into another Lydia Martin situation, jesus, he really could _not_ handle that again. Finding out his dream girl was an actual human being’d kind of sucked. Hopefully he could just take Isaac for what he was and not _Paper Towns_ this shit up one side and down the other. “That would be _awesome_ , actually. This is the first time I don’t have a class with lab work with Erica, and maybe you’ll actually like, let me help and help me out when I don’t get it instead of just shooing me off and doing it all yourself.”

Stiles cocked his eyebrow up and smirked at Isaac. “’S that a bad thing?”

Isaac sputtered a little indignantly as they walked out into the sun together. “Of _course_ that’s a bad thing— _what_? I want to _learn stuff_ , not just get good grades! I mean, I want that, too, but I don’t…I wanna _earn_ it.”

Stiles was pretty impressed. And pretty damn infatuated, truth be told.

 

When Stiles got back from the bathroom to see Isaac browsing through his ‘Recently Watched’ list, he tried not to get embarrassed because that was a thing he was trying to wean out of himself, make himself _stop doing_ , but he never could quite accomplish it, and this point was proven when he felt his ears redden. “Uh. Yeah. I share this with my dad. So not all of it is mine. I admit to only _two_ of the ridiculously old movies and don’t ask me about the Korean dramas, my dad is _strange_.” Stiles tried to ignore the fact that Isaac jumped about half a foot in the air when he spoke to the best of his ability, but the fear and the little bit of pain that he smelled coming off the guy really freaked him out. He was around the couch and sitting on the floor beside Isaac, hand slowly going to his shoulder, trying to figure out how he could’ve hurt himself, in only a couple seconds. “Hey—sorry—you okay?”

Isaac’s face was a rictus of pain for about two seconds before it smoothed out and he tugged the hem of his shirt down. “Uh. Yeah. Stomach’s still hurting. Sorry I was kind of—you know. Here.” He tried to pass Stiles the X-box controller, blushing.

Stiles shook his head and held out his hand, palm out, towards Isaac. “Dude, no. ‘S fine. You pick—it’d actually be _easier_ if it was something I’ve already seen, so I can concentrate on _this_.” He gestured to their Chem books and binders, open on the floor. Stiles lay down on his stomach and dragged his book over to get started on the reading while Isaac scrolled through the titles, looking confused and surprised. Every now and then Isaac’s heart jumped and Stiles smiled. If Isaac wasn’t into him _before_ he totally was right now. He looked up at the screen on one of the pulse jumps and then at Isaac quickly, grinning. “ _Dude_ , you like Avatar: The Last Airbender?”

Isaac’s eyebrows shot up and his heart started to hammer in a way that suggested he maybe kind of hated how easy it was for Stiles to tell what he was feeling. His face kept swapping between excited and terrified, and it was pretty goddamn endearing. “Uh. Yeah. Pretty lame, right?” Isaac moved the joystick to change shows and Stiles reached forward and slipped the controller out of his hands, quicker than quick, flipped it back, and scrolled through the episodes until he found his favorite: "The Cave of Two Lovers".

“Pretty _awesome_ you meant, dude. I’ll forgive you for calling one of my favorite shows lame if you forgive me for being able to hear all the crazy stuff your heart’s doing right now.” Stiles grinned a wicked little grin and Isaac’s heart did something so unfathomably quick and hard Stiles thought he might wind up killing the guy accidentally.

Isaac’s face set, like he was resolving himself to do something, and Stiles prepared himself for either a slap or a kiss. Neither one would really _hurt_ , but he could definitely do without the former. The latter…well…’salivating for it’ would be a good way to put it. But Isaac did neither, just bit his bottom lip and gave up any pretense of reading his Chem book, looking Stiles full in the face, blushing hard but speaking anyway. “My heart did crazy stuff around you _before_ you could hear it, okay? I-I know it makes it weird, I kinda can’t help that I like you, I dunno what to do about it…please just try to ignore it? I mean, I know that’s a lot to ask, but it’s okay that—I mean—you could have _anybody_.” Isaac blushed harder and all down his neck and looked away with his eyes but didn’t turn his face, braced for the rejection.

Insecure but painfully beautiful boy with an extended crush going once, twice, _sold_ , to the teenage werewolf with the slightly goofy lop-sided grin and _very_ stroked ego.

Stiles moved forward and gently placed his hand on the side of Isaac’s face, and Isaac flinched and leaned into it at the same time. “You know, I probably _could_. But to be honest, I want _you_. I mean, come on, dude. You have good taste.” _And you actually_ want _to learn and you like a lot of things I like and you’re kind of_ fuckingbeautiful _and I really want to show you that you don’t have to be scared of everybody. Or at least that you don’t have to be scared of me._ But of course he didn’t say any of that to out loud. There was a such thing as over-sharing.

Isaac was looking at Stiles like he didn’t even know what he _was_. “I…what are you saying, exactly?”

Stiles sighed and stroked the edge of Isaac’s cheekbone, so well-defined it was almost criminal. “I’m _saying_ I _like you, too._ Just relax, man. ‘M gonna kiss you now.”

Stiles moved to press his mouth to Isaac’s slowly and he was a little scared, honestly, because Isaac was _staring_ at him with these wide-open eyes full of want and fear, eyes that seemed to broadcast ‘ _I can’t relax oh god what do I do_ ’ out at Stiles, and Stiles realized this was probably Isaac’s first kiss, and he wanted it to be nice, to be good, to be better than his was. Sentimental and stupid, but he didn’t really care. Isaac wasn’t going to be tacky with lipgloss by the end of it, that was already a plus-one.

Stiles finally just closed his eyes and dipped his face the rest of the way forward, and the second his lips touched Isaac a full-body change occurred and Isaac was wrapping his arms around Stiles’ shoulders, arms relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, sucking in a deep, sharp breath, and it felt like he was pressing the _whole_ of himself into the kiss so Stiles did the same, shuffling forward on his knees, wrapping a careful arm around Isaac’s back, feeling him flinch a little before leaning simultaneously into Stiles and into the arm at his back and against the couch, twisting himself up a little even as a small sigh of contentment and confounded pleasure made its way into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles wanted _way_ more of that noise in his life, that was for sure.

And _oh_ this was gonna be good, he had such a good feeling about this.


End file.
